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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658067">The Gifts of Polis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgot_my_art/pseuds/forgot_my_art'>forgot_my_art</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneKast/pseuds/OneKast'>OneKast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Injury, Clarke Griffin Takes Care of Lexa, Clarke Griffin and Lexa in Love, Clarke Griffin/Lexa Fluff, Clexa20gayteen, Cute Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Episode AU: s03e02 Wanheda Part 2, Eventual Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grounder Culture, Grounders (The 100) - Freeform, Injury, Injury Recovery, Lexa Lives (The 100), Lexa Takes Care of Clarke Griffin, Lincoln Lives (The 100), Luna/Raven Reyes - Freeform, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Minor Original Character(s), Nobody is Dead, Permanent Injury, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Soulmates Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Wanheda Clarke Griffin, slight suicidal tendencies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:35:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgot_my_art/pseuds/forgot_my_art, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneKast/pseuds/OneKast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU in which Clarke actually tries to understand Grounders, where we get to see her heal from Mount Weather (with Lexa’s help) and how trauma affects her, and what Wanheda could’ve become to the Grounders. Wanheda is Clarke's split personality.</p><p>This dragged out too long and lost it's direction so OneKast and I have decided to discontinue this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin &amp; Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Luna &amp; Raven Reyes, Luna/Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake &amp; Lincoln, Octavia Blake/Lincoln</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>201</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the first part of the series, so welcome! Let's see where this goes, shall we?<br/>Updated every Saturday.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lexa orders Clarke to be brought to her</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Once again it was the squabbles that filled her days, the incessant bickering like</span><em><span> goufa</span></em><span>. Lexa sighed and frowned, the lines that came with it encumbering her face once again. She inhaled slowly, attempting to calm down her fraying nerves.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Commander, the Wanheda is dangerous now that we’ve betrayed her!” Lexa opened her eyes once again to Titus’ headache inducing shouts. His face was twisted into a scowl as usual, the smoothness of his bald head illuminated hauntingly by the candles that lit the room. It was late, the darkness casting nighttime shadows within the room. His beady eyes spoke volumes of disapproval.</span></p><p>
  <span>Indra had brought up the topic as a report during their meeting with the ambassadors of the eleven other tribes. Her face per usual was as stoney as a boulder, head held high, betraying nothing of her thoughts on this as she stood next to Lexa in her throne. Lexa breathed out slowly through her nose and then back in. She closed her eyes as if that would help shut out the tension in the room, the impending wars and dangers upon her people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How in skafa did it come to this? Lexa couldn’t even remember when it had happened. Was it when she had blown into her tent like a whirlwind storm, demanding an alliance that she was in no place to negotiate? Or perhaps…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I might be a hypocrite, Lexa but you’re a liar.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The words burned, the words that Lexa didn’t wish to hear, and had tried to cast out of her brain and heart so she could make the decisions a commander would; a commander who did what was best for her people and led all twelve clans. Her bright blue eyes burned like the coldest ice. Ice which pierced Lexa’s heart again and again, as Clarke stepped forward, forcing Lexa to step back at her advance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With each step another wave of guilt and pain, another casualty. Gustus. Costia.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why was she stepping backward? She shouldn’t. She’s the commander, the highest of everyone in this nation. Skafa, she should’ve wrapped her hands around this girl’s neck and wrung her to death for mentioning Costia to attack her whilst she had shared the experience to make Clarke feel better. Yet, Lexa continued to step backward under the barrage, heart hammering at each word, each accusation that was flung at her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lexa steeled her heart and expression, forcing her breath to even out as much as possible. She tried to pull her eyes from their captivated stance on the blue ones in front her but couldn’t. Finally she forced a scowl and growled as menacingly as she possibly could, “Get. Out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As if that wasn’t enough for the world to put her through, Clarke had to get in the last word. She felt scorned as Clarke opened her wounds on TonDC, her regrets, the guilt that riddled her nights and days. Lexa was furious, livid even. She was ridiculed by the girl who was her enemy a week ago, had her good will used against her. Clarke didn’t even respect her or listen to her as a commander. The feeling that prevailed however, was the flutters in her heart.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa opened her eyes and looked up. “Bring me Roan of Azgeda. Now,” she demanded. Her voice wasn’t raised, not at all in volume, but her tone made it clear this was an order.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations of Prologue:<br/>Goufa - child<br/>Skafa - hell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The One I Wish to Protect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roan and Clarke arrive in Polis, and Lexa is being softer than expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the short prologue. This chapter is longer and the rest will be as well. This chapter starts off at the end of 3x02</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The burlap sack was whipped off her head. Although it wasn’t blindingly bright like she expected it to be, Clarke still had to blink and wait for the white spots to disappear as she adjusted to the light after so many hours of darkness. Clarke scowled as much as she could with a filthy rag as a gag in her mouth, to show her discontent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then her heart and vision froze. Clarke wouldn’t have been surprised if the world froze with her. The sun blinded Clarke. It enveloped Lexa, forming a halo around her, turning her into a picturesque silhouette. Slowly she rose from her lounging position on the couch and came into view as her body blocked the sunlight out. It was a stark difference, her black clothes, pauldron, and dark red sash against the blindingly white light of the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa. The bane of her existence, but the anchor of her thoughts. No matter how much Clarke attempted to run away from her pain, her brain always circled back to Lexa like a merry go around. Clarke wanted to string her up, give her a cut for every person at Mount Weather that died in a blinding rage that consumed her, eating her insides until she felt like she would puke. Lexa deserved it, Clarke told herself. Despite that, her breath caught in her throat as Lexa slowly walked forward. Worry bloomed on Lexa’s face, somehow adorning it in a beautiful way flowers could never beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke attempted to bring searing heat into her eyes, valiantly trying to burn Lexa with her gaze as if there could be lasers shooting from her eyes if she tried hard enough. It did not work. Lexa looked away from her, not the least bit intimidated, and scowled. “The deal was to bring her to me unharmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following exchange stirred confusion in Clarke; a whirling storm of thoughts flew past that she didn’t wish to engage in. Clarke hated how her stomach twisted at the news, how she </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried about Lexa. No, instead it must’ve been worry for her friends back at Arkadia and the innocent people of Polis. Most of the conversation flew over her head. Banishment, an army marching to Polis, locking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince</span>
  </em>
  <span> Roan of Azgeda away. At least that answered the question of why he was so eager to bring her to Polis. Clarke could hear the bite in Roan’s tone as he demanded the lift of his banishment and the underlying venom in Lexa’s reply. Clarke didn’t look behind her at Roan, she’d seen enough of his face the last few days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the room, however, was hard to miss. It was a lavish room with a sitting area ringed by couches. The tall windows were covered by curtains from floor to ceiling. Despite it being the middle of the day and nowhere near nighttime, candles were still lit all around the room. There were even candle holders with candles on top of a statue of young boys’ heads flanking the bed. The room extended past the luxurious bed with a giant ornate headboard carved so huge and intricately it was taller than Clarke herself. The rest of the bed was just as meticulously carved and draped in heavy furs. Briefly, Clarke wondered if Lexa was immune to the heat when she was asleep because with the candles and over the top furs, it was probably swelteringly hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke didn’t even look when Lexa ordered Roan to be dragged back out and the doors closed with a loud boom of finality. Lexa slowly bent one knee, kneeling so she was level and could look her in the eyes. Clarke’s rage burned within her, in the pits of her stomach up to her throat as she clenched her jaw and struggled against her bonds. Then she saw Lexa’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, her face, her green eyes that sparkled even now with some kind of hope, the same hope that had made her the cornerstone of the Coalition-Skaikru alliance. Clarke didn’t need a reminder that it was a thing of the past. Clarke loathed the fact that Lexa’s eyes practically spelled out concern and that her heart moved imperceptibly underneath the thick layer of unbreakable anger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a softness that anybody else would be appalled to see on their commander, Lexa gently removed the gag from her mouth. “I’m sorry. That it had to be this way. I had to make sure you didn’t fall into the hands of the Ice Queen.” She paused if only to give herself time to think. Or perhaps recollect of her guilt, as she should, Clarke thought. “War is brewing. I need you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gathering the low remaining amounts of spit left in her mouth, Clarke spits in her face, fueled by fury. It’s only brief, a slight slip-up before Lexa pulls her mask back and wipes the spit off her face, but it’s there and Clarke sees it. If there had to be a description for it, it would’ve been somewhere between relief, disappointment, and heartbreak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not going to save you from anything. You didn’t save me,” Clarke hissed in reply. Lexa seemed completely unfazed by her barrage of words. “You betray me, and then you drag me here as a prisoner, expecting me to help you when you </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. That’s bullshit, Lexa and you know it!”</span>
</p><p><span>Lexa sighs a quiet, feeble thing that leaves her lips as a wisp. Her eyes roam Clarke’s face, her stark green eyes searching, but whatever they were searching for, it isn’t found because her eyes once again drop. Clarke refuses to answer, to give her the satisfaction of hearing any part of her voice. Lexa opens her mouth as if to say something, explain something, and a twisted, mangled, part of Clarke absurdly wants to hear it. The explanation for why she did what she did, that perhaps there’s another reason that is so big, so shocking that it could perhaps even let Clarke forgive her.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>It doesn’t happen. Instead, Lexa’s face hardens and she calls for the guards. Clarke is dragged out, screaming and shouting her voice hoarse, writhing against the hold of the soldiers until she is dumped into a dark room, one that she doesn’t bother checking out because her stubbornness gets the best of her. She stays up screaming and banging on the door when they untie her hands and closes the doors behind her with a soft click of locking finality. </span></p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark hallway was silent, torches on the walls casting long shadows and a chilly draft coming from somewhere else in the tower that could never seem to be pinpointed. Lexa had ordered the guards to leave. Her heart was a cacophony of contesting arguments. She knew Clarke would run away if given the chance and Lexa couldn’t blame her for it. Lexa longed to make amends but knew by how Clarke reacted earlier in the day, Clarke needed space and time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guards had told her that Clarke had banged and screamed and cursed well after sunset as if the raw stubbornness of the girl could garner the world’s attention. After checking once more there was nobody in that hallway, Lexa slid down with her back against the door until she was sitting on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t want to treat Clarke like a prisoner. It’s why she’d seen to it that Clarke was sent to a guest room and that she was untied and ungagged. It was also why she made the guards leave now that Clarke was silent enough for her to be sure that no enemies of theirs would find Clarke by her incessant screaming alone. If Lexa had her way, the door wouldn’t even be locked. However, she couldn’t risk Clarke running out and getting captured or worse killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Lexa didn’t know why she was here. It had been a long, tiring day dealing with reports, ambassadors, treaties, and legalities. Or perhaps that was exactly why she was there in the first place. She was tired and being so close to Clarke somehow eased the burden off her shoulders. After a long while sitting there trying to revel in the comfort that Clarke is safe and cannot be used against her, Lexa murmurs, “You are as insistent as the stars over our heads every night… My wish to protect you and your people is hard to realize. You are not a prisoner...I just want you safe.” Her face is painted with a pained smile, before her face becomes steely once more, pushing herself off the ground with her palms and marches off.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke awoke the next day to sunlight that glared in her eyes. She brought her hand up to block some of the sunlight from her face. Clarke hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep. She put the heels of her palms to her eyes and attempted to rub the sleep away. After that, she scanned the room. It wasn’t a cell or a torture room like she had previously thought. Or perhaps she hadn’t been thinking at all cause the door hadn’t been prison-like whatsoever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It resembled the room she had been brought to Lexa in, but smaller, less elaborate. It had the same amount of candles though. What was it with the candles? Somebody had thrown the curtains wide open to let the light of day through. Clarke sniffed the air and her mouth watered at the smell of food so good that it should’ve been illegal. Following her nose, Clarke walked over to the area of couches. On a low table was a fresh set of clothes, a bar of soap, and a plate stacked high with bacon, sausages, eggs, and bread. Next to it sat a simple note that informed her the bath was prepared for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saying Clarke was confused was an understatement. It was almost as if Lexa was treating her like an esteemed ambassador. Clarke knew better than to assume that this was how prisoners were treated in Polis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s mind burned with shame. At best Lexa was mocking her with all of this, just to make sure that Clarke knew how much Lexa controlled, and how little Clarke and what she consumed and needed mattered to her. At worst, Lexa was bribing her to do something that she didn’t even know what it was yet. Her mouth tasted bitter at that thought. Submitting to Lexa’s bribes was something she would never do. Then she looked at the plate of food again. Her stomach grumbled and her legs were weak, her head dizzy. Maybe just a slice of bread off the top of the stack...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In the original scene Lexa says “I have to make sure Wanheda doesn’t fall into the hands of the Ice Queen”. In this fanfiction I have decided to replace “Wanheda” with “you” because I feel like that one change in word changes the meaning of this interaction entirely.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Stubborn Perserverance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke doesn't want to see Lexa</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was feeling nostalgic when I wrote this so if anyone was wondering, I was listening to One Direction’s “Perfect”. Don’t worry though, there’ll be plenty of angst in this chapter despite that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke really ended up only eating one slice of bread. She might not want Lexa’s hospitality, but if she died like this, it would just be sad. The bath and the rest of the food were really tempting, but Clarke reined herself in, stood in front of the window and looked outside, contemplating how she could escape. Now that she looked out she could see that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too high to possibly escape through the window. There was no way she was going to stay here. Clarke was never going to help the one who betrayed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time Clarke closed her eyes, she saw the bodies of the radiation soaked bodies, the way Jasper had looked broken as he clutched Maya. It was a choking feeling, an awful feeling that made her want to die because she didn’t want to bear this responsibility. At the same time, she didn’t want to die because she felt like she deserved every ounce of pain she was feeling right now for every person she had killed with that lever in Mount Weather. Everything tearing her apart right now was Lexa’s fault.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s hands were carefully folded behind her, shoulders rolled back, and head held up high. Slowly and deliberately, she pulled her hand away to knock on the door. “Clarke.”</span>
</p><p><span>“I don’t want to see Lexa. Anybody would be better than seeing her”, Clarke’s scathing reply came from behind the door.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Lexa forced herself not to react with her gut instincts to let her face fall with her heart. She could convince Clarke to help her as long as she helped Clarke deal with the pain that came with making decisions as a leader. Lexa understood that more than anyone. She may be young, but her shoulders bore more years of sacrifices and decisions that she could never reverse, than most people could even imagine.</span></p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Lexa turned around to the plump woman behind her. Behind her stood a woman with grey hair and a gentle, knowing smile. The woman had served at least two generations of commanders before Lexa and was the servant that usually took care of her, but in this situation Lexa trusted nobody more than this sweet old woman to make Clarke feel at ease. Obviously Lexa wasn’t doing it well if Clarke reacted like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what to do,”she said in acknowledgement and a small nod of her head before marching back down the hall towards the throne room. Her look remained passive and regal as she walked into the throne room with a huff, loudly shoving the double doors open at her arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(NOTE: THIS FOLLOWING SCENE IS IN TRIGEDASLENG)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rise for your commander!” Titus declared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa proceeded to make a show of stomping up the stairs to her throne before whipping around and plopping down into a lounging position. She raised an eyebrow as if to challenge everyone now silently looking down on their knees in awe, in fear, in respect. Good, she thought. At least they could start the meeting in a nice and orderly fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ouskejon Kru ambassador immediately stood up and faced the throne, bowing out of customary respect. “There is concern among the people that the skaikru will retaliate for us breaking off the alliance that was forged during the battle at Mount Weather. We should march on them before they have a chance. The element of surprise is always an advantage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa scowled deepy. There it was, the thing she </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to talk about. She opened her mouth to once again deflect the suggestion. It certainly wasn’t the first time it had come up in these meetings. “The more important matter is the unrest in Azgeda. Until we have figured out how to quell that, there will be no more talk of skaikru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azgeda is one of the coalition! You’re asking for disaster by sowing seeds of doubt within your own people, Heda! You ought to be more suspicious of those threats outside of the coalition!” the Azgeda ambassador immediately stood up with indignation and defended Azgeda, turning the conversation back onto Skaikru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will treat your Heda with respect!”Titus demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stand down, Titus,”Lexa said calmly, looking at the Azgeda ambassador with a distinct lack of interest. It would do no good to silence a man, she would be called unfair if she resolved to using the fleimkepa and force to keep people in line. “Now sit, we have more important matters to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the ambassadors rose from their knees and sat back in their chair… all except for the Azgedan ambassador. Lexa’s temper was starting to rise. She was tired of nothing getting done because this man constantly brought up the same things over and over again, leading the meetings in an unproductive direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes we do, just like Heda’s unwillingness to deal with skaikru. If this is the Heda’s weakness again, Azgeda will gladly step in.” Now Lexa was pissed. She wasn’t incompetent nor weak like this man was suggesting and she could easily prove it. Taking in a breath as Titus and Indra continued to bicker with the Azgedan ambassador, Lexa stood up from her throne with a little push and walked over to the open balcony, inhaling the fresh air of the morning high up in the sky. Polis was such a beautiful city. The capital of a nation she would do anything to protect the people of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa turned around and in a level voice, she interrupted the argument. “There’s no need to argue about this again. Please, come join me.” Lexa watches as he smirks and walks forward as if he has won. She continued, “I have a message for queen Nia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll happily deliver i-” Lexa mustered all the frustration and anger she felt, the frustration at how stubborn Clarke was, the dangers of Azgeda marching on Polis, all the regrets that she had for protecting her people instead of staying with her like she had said she would into one single kick. Then the ambassador was screaming, falling, and hit the floor with a sick, satisfying, crunch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned on her heel to face the rest of the members. “Would anyone else care to question my decisions?” All the ambassadors looked sufficiently disturbed and terrified. “Good. Then let’s begin.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>(Back to English)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke snarled and whipped around when the door opened despite what she had said and then froze in surprise. The woman who had just walked in was most definitely not Lexa. She bowed her head in respect before starting in an accent not uncommon coming from Grounders, “I am Carol, and I have been ordered by the commander to assist you, Klark kom Skaikru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing to assist a </span>
  <em>
    <span>prisoner</span>
  </em>
  <span> with, you’re just helping her mock me”,Clarke hissed. She glared at the woman, which was pretty hard because the woman in a maid’s uniform was simply looking back at her with a sympathetic, knowing smile that reminded her of her own mother, Abby’s smile whenever she had found doing something amusing. That aggravated her even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol shuffled forward and looked Clarke over. “There is no prisoner here.” Carol simply started fluffing the pillows as she continued to watch Clarke inquisitively. “A prisoner would be in the dungeons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt quite uncomfortable under her gaze. It was like being a child caught throwing a temper tantrum over candy. Clarke wasn’t being unreasonable, she knew she wasn’t, she refused to admit she was. It was her right to be angry at Lexa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol stops what she is doing and looks Clarke straight in the eyes again, so much so that Clarke struggles not to squirm and lower her eyes. Then she has the audacity to smile at Clarke as if she knew something Clarke did not know. “The Heda has not said you are a prisoner, has she? You can explore the city as you wish, as long as you don’t go looking for danger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke furrowed her brow. “I could… just walk out and leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol looks at the door pointedly. Clarke follows her gaze. The door is still open and there are no guards to be seen or heard. A thousand thoughts go through her head, but the first to solidly land is </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can run away</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The thought spurs her feet on as she picks up pace towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would at least take a bath first and don a cloak with a hood, child. Escaping is easier when people can’t smell you from all the way down the hall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke whipped around, as horrified at the fact of being called out as she was that the woman had the audacity to do so. Carol was standing there tending to the candles and just smiled back at her innocently, oh so innocently. As much as Clarke wanted to leave, Carol had a point. Plus, anyone from the army Lexa had brought to Mount Weather could recognize her when she was dressed like this. Clarke gave in with a frown and stepped forward, silently walking to the bathroom. She pulls off her grimy and tattered clothing before sinking into the bathtub. The water was still relatively warm thanks to the simmering coals underneath. Only for a little bit, Clarke promised herself. This wasn’t taking advantage of Lexa’s hospitality, it was just so that she could escape more easily.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa herself was taking a bath when she heard the head of her guard, Ava burst into the room. “Heda, we have lost track of the girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa cursed as she practically jumped out of the bath, grabbing a towel to wrap around herself before strutting out into the main part of her room. “Chit yu don biyo, Eva??!” Lexa demanded in rapidfire Trigedasleng. Behind Ava, Carol smirked knowingly. She had warned the Heda that the girl wouldn’t just explore Polis, but the bullheaded commander hadn’t listened to her. The Heda had wanted to keep Clarke’s arrival a secret, to, as the Heda had phrased it, “learn to appreciate Polis on her own, and come to terms with herself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Heda kept walking forward until she was pretty much chest to chest with Ava, glaring her down. This was a feat in itself because Ava was a good three inches taller than the Heda herself. Yet the woman cowered in front of the fear inducing commander’s gaze. Normally a composed and harsh woman, Ava fumbled over her words as she explained to the Heda, that the unit of Heda’s personal guard that she’d dispatched had lost sight of the hooded girl near the Western gate of Polis, having been shaken off by Clarke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa knew better than anyone that the Western gate exited straight into a forest where pumas and pauna and all sorts of wild beasts resided, unlike the Eastern gate from which Clarke had entered from. Clarke was in danger. Her head spun and her thoughts pulled in a thousand different directions of possibilities. There was no time to waste if Clarke was in danger. Lexa had to save her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GYON AU AI SIN Y’IN! Ai sis op gon oyu fok op somtaim” Lexa roared. Carol shook her head as Ava almost looked relieved at being dismissed instead of thrown off the balcony for her mistake and scurried out. Carol stepped forward with a towel and helped Lexa braid her hair as the girl in question was already slipping into her clothes and armor, previous warm bath long forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Carol finished, Lexa snapped her pauldron and sash into place. “If I’m not back before my next meeting, tell Titus I said to postpone it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting for Carol to answer, Lexa strode out of the room so fast, Carol was scared the girl might get whiplash. Carol shook her head with a small smile. Those two girls had their own struggles to deal with, but their hearts were already intertwined no matter how much they may wish they weren’t. If only they had met in another life where neither of them bore such a heavy responsibility.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the scene not being in Trigedasleng. It’s just that it would get really confusing if I put the entire scene in Trig and translated it.<br/>Translations<br/>Chit yu don biyo, Eva - What did you say, Ava?<br/>Gyon au ai sin y’in! Ai sis op gon oyu fok op somtaim- GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! I will take care of you for your mistake later</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. If Only My Head Listened to My Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I should just name this chapter “Angst Galore”. The POV’s will switch a lot in this chapter, get ready.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote Lexa’s POV to Coldplay’s “Scientist”, if you're interested  in the vibe that I wrote this to. Helps me get into an angsty mood.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lexa’s hair and braids billowed behind her as she sprinted as fast as she darted through the forest, heart in a manic type of panic. What if she was too late? The need to find Clarke throbbed painfully in her chest. If the beasts of this part of the forest got to Clarke before Lexa did, Lexa would never be able to tell Clarke she was sorry. Sorry for leaving her, sorry that she betrayed her, sorry for hurting her. Her heart thrummed in her ears, the look of hatred on Clarke’s face engraved in her vision as her world spun at the possibilities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa had to get onto higher ground. That’d provide a better vantage point for looking for her. Hastily, Lexa started climbing the nearest tree. So careless that a branch snapped underneath her feet. Her leg swung wildly as she attempted to steady herself, hanging onto the branch she was holding onto with both arms now. She looked down and gulped. Her feet dangled easily eighteen feet up in the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa inhaled slowly. She had to keep going. Carefulness be damned. Even if Clarke may never admit it (that stubborn girl), Clarke needed Lexa right now. As graceful as a frolicking deer, Lexa leapt silently from tree to tree, heart, and eyes frantically searching for Clarke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>******************</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke sprinted as far from Polis as she could get. Although still weak from having not eaten a proper meal in weeks her legs carried her as fast as they could. Weaving in and out of the crowds of people walking around Polis, trying to get back to the forest. Once there she realized she didn't bring anything to protect herself with if she were to encounter an attacker. However, at this moment she didn't care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke pondered if Lexa was worried for her. She wondered if she had even known that Clarke had left. Perhaps she hadn't noticed. Perhaps the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heda </span>
  </em>
  <span>was too busy thinking about what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>best for her own people</span>
  </em>
  <span> with no thought of how it may affect Clarke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head along with any thought of Lexa that was lingering in her mind. She had </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidnapped </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clarke. She had kept her in Polis as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>prisoner </span>
  </em>
  <span>just so she could avoid a war on her own people. Why would Clarke help her? She wouldn’t, that was the answer. She wouldn’t help her even if the almighty Heda got on her knees begging for forgiveness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head once more and continued quickly in the direction she had been running. Wondering where she was going, how far she was going, and what else hid in these forests. She heard a rustling in the trees. It sounded like something was following her. She tensed up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Shit,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought to herself. She looked around for something sharp, anything that could protect her. And just as she spotted something she could use she heard a loud snap of branches behind her. She tensed more before whipping herself around quickly to catch a glance of what was following her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>******************</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke. There she is.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>Her wild, tangled blond hair, determined sky blue eyes, and her strong and steadfast feet trampling through the forest. Lexa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, but her heart clenched at the same time. She had a raging, stubborn type of breathtaking beauty.</span><span><br/></span> <span>Pure instinct took over Lexa. The consequences, responsibilities, and rational thoughts flew out of her mind. Lexa leapt out of the low branch that she had observed Clarke from, rolling and ending up on one knee and hand. Lexa looked up to see Clarke tense and started to turn around (of course she did, that smart girl), but Lexa was up before she could. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke’s torso, allowing the smell of Clarke to envelope her.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and reveled in Clarke’s warmth. She had made it. Clarke was safe. She hadn’t failed as she had at Mount Weather to protect everyone, she didn’t have to choose one or the other. Lexa’s lips almost twisted into a smile at the warmth that was spreading through her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Then Clarke was struggling against her in typical Clarke fashion, elbowing her, kicking back, and screaming so loudly. “LET ME GO, LEXA I’M NOT YOUR PRISONER I WON’T GIVE YOU WANHEDA SO EASILY!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa started to hiss at Clarke, “Skrish, shof op, Klark you’re gonna attract the-”, but then Clarke kicked her in the leg again, stepping on her toes in an attempt to get away and Lexa had to practically pick her up so that her legs were kicking in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was most definitely not the ideal situation. Lexa was strong, but even she couldn’t hold a struggling Clarke up like this forever. She didn’t have much of a height advantage physically on Clarke, to begin with. There was also the fact that Clarke was being so loud that she was bound to attract the attention of wildlife.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she heard it. The sliding of something humongous approaching, branches snapping underneath as it did. She shushed Clarke but Clarke only thrashed harder, protesting something about “not being hers to tame'' but then Clarke froze as well. She heard it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind them, something hissed. Lexa’s blood froze. Slowly she set Clarke down on the ground and then turned around, drawing her swords with equal caution.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jok…Doba Hisa”, Lexa breathed in a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before them, was an easily 30-foot long snake. A thick body with a tail that was coiling behind it. It was plated with scales. That wasn’t the scary part. The scary part was the double heads sprouting out from its body unnaturally like all other animals and humans affected by radiation. If the sight wasn’t ghastly enough, one of the heads reared back and opened its maw, two giant teeth gleaming in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves. Poison dripped from its mouth, burning the piles of leaves and branches underneath it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****************</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as quickly as Clarke was able to catch a glimpse of Lexa the commander was once again gone from her sight. But not completely gone, no, now she was holding Clarke in her arms. For a short moment, Clarke wanted to turn around and hug her back. But she stopped herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least the person following her didn't seem to be someone who wanted her dead. Or maybe Lexa had finally had enough and was there to</span>
  <em>
    <span> kill her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But if she was, she wouldn’t hug her so that possibility was shut down sooner than it could be thought about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Clarke felt her rage come back. She thrashed around in Lexa’s arms. Screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping someone would hear. It got to the point where Clarke was yelling so much she was basically screeching. Not even caring at this point if she lost her voice. She was so angry, so much rage still roared within her. Rage toward Lexa, the one who she believed she could trust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jok...doba hisa,” Lexa breathed in a shaky whisper. That settled Clarke’s screeching but now instead of anger, fear took her over. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Doba hisa,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What in the hell could that mean?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then she heard it, the loud hissing noise that Lexa seemed to hear first, the sound that she knew a snake made. It was getting closer and closer to the two of them. She looked up at it, and there it stood. The 30-foot snake, with double heads and poison dripping from its mouth. This radiation and the effect it had on the wildlife was no joke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke watched as Lexa drew her swords. She reached to her side instinctively forgetting the dagger she once carried was taken upon arrival in Polis. Now her head was clouded with thoughts of fear and </span>
  <em>
    <span>worry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>No matter how much she didn’t want to worry, she feared for Lexa’s life against this beast. Clarke was no help in this situation and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hisa</span>
  </em>
  <span> was getting closer. Leaves and twigs melted every time the poison that dripped from its mouth hit the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa turned around, worry laced her face as she looked Clarke up and down. She seemed to be searching for something. Probably searching Clarke with her eyes to see if she had something on her that could protect her, or help her get away. Clarke noticed this and shook her head, trying to keep her expression stiff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes dropped before she spoke “Clarke, stay behind me.” Her voice was in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heda </span>
  </em>
  <span>tone even though she spoke to her in English. She didn't want to listen to her, but she also didn't want to die here. Not at the mercy of a mutated snake. So Clarke obeyed reluctantly. She ran behind a nearby tree that was behind Lexa and watched as Lexa charged toward the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hisa. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>The snake</span> <span>bared its teeth and its double heads shot toward Lexa. She rolled out of the way even encumbered by her swords, she was still swift and quick on her feet. Clarke tensed every time the beast went after Lexa. She knew she could run, she knew she could get out and leave her to die the same way Lexa had at Mount Weather. But she </span><em><span>couldn’t. </span></em><span>It was like her feet were glued to the ground. If she was to go anywhere, it would be toward Lexa to help her. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>She remembered the time the two of them had gotten into trouble with the pauna. It was one of their first one on one interactions with each other. She remembered Lexa getting hurt and telling Clarke to leave her behind. Lexa believed when someone was hurt, they were almost useless, especially if the commander was the one who was hurt. She was willing to die at that moment and Clarke noticed she was willing to die here too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s why she told me to stay behind.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she realized. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unwanted fear and worry whirled inside her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Lexa doesn’t get to die here,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought once again to herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“If anyone is to die it will be me.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clarke wasn’t going to let Lexa die until she felt or even had a glimpse of the pain Clarke was in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she couldn’t take it any longer she grabbed a nearby rock, the biggest one she could find, and chucked it at the giant snake. It hit the eye of one of its heads and then the creature turned around to face Clarke. The snake hissed and seemed to lock its eyes onto Clarke. She stood tall, trying her best to hide the fear in her voice. “Sorry </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she hissed in a low growl “If you want to kill Heda. You must first kill Wanheda.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She saw in her peripheral view a tired and possibly Lexa. But she also got a good look at Lexa’s eyes as they widened quickly at Clarke’s words and watched as her body tensed even more. The commander was good at hiding her emotions, but it seemed like with Clarke she wasn’t very commander-like. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The giant snake bared its teeth once again but this time it lunged toward Clarke. She followed Lexa’s first move and rolled out of the way as quickly as she could. She looked around again for something that could help fight this creature. She heard the searing once again of the forest floor as the poison hit it. She eyed another rock and dashed toward it. Picking it up swiftly in one quick motion, chucking it to hit the Hisa’s eye again attempting to blind it or slow it down for a few moments. As it hit the snake in the eye Lexa came up behind it, shouting what seemed to be a warrior cry, and slashed at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster</span>
  </em>
  <span> with one of her swords. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****************</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa kept her eyes on the two heads of the double-headed snake. It was like trying to do a staring contest against two people simultaneously. The snake was assessing her, biding its time. Even if it was impossible Lexa had to get out of this with Clarke. The people needed her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> people needed Clarke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Clarke did one of the most reckless things she has ever witnessed, maybe only topped by drinking that bottle of moonshine to prove Raven innocent. “Sorry, monster. If you want to kill Heda, you must first kill Wanheda.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes widened and if it was possible, her heart stopped beating for a second. The world froze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except, that second didn’t last and was over when Clarke hurled a rock at the snake, hitting one of its four eyes. If there was any moment she was going to do anything it was now. With a fearsome cry, Lexa leapt forward and jumped as high as she could, slashing the half-blinded snake. Without a second in between, the second snakehead was upon her and she bore the brunt of the impact with her left sword, right sword too far to get into position. Lexa went flying, landing four feet behind Clarke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brushing off the pain of impact, she rolled back onto her feet as quickly as possible. “Why’d you have to do that? Now you’ve only aggravated it, Clarke,” Lexa murmured as she inched up next to Clarke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, like you had any brighter ideas. Don’t you even dare think about sacrificing yourself like a martyr.” Lexa could feel Clarke’s glare on her. She couldn’t really deny she had thought of doing so. There was no way they were going to be able to defeat this beast. It was as bad as the pauna. This was annoying, embarrassing even. It was a blow to her pride. Lexa wanted to deny it but she couldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to sacrifice myself for my prisoner,” Lexa grumbled under her breath to Clarke. The snake was coming back up, it’s one eye now returning to normal, now assessing both Lexa </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Clarke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so now you admit I’m a prisoner? I hate you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa’s heart dropped to her stomach at that statement. She hated this feeling. “Yeah, well maybe I wouldn’t have to keep you like one if you cared about your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clarke’s voice rose to a scream. “ME?! I care about my life a fucking lot more than you. You’re the savage, emotionless human who left us all to die at Mount Weather. You left </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to die!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lexa felt something die in her. Clarke had gone there. Part of her knew Clarke was just angry but another part blamed herself too. It was just because Clarke didn’t understand...right? Lexa didn’t have the time to sort out her feelings when the snake reared up again, tail whipping forward this time to hit Clarke who went flying into a tree and fell, limp to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clarke!” Lexa sheathed her swords and ran to Clarke, picking her up and running as the double-headed snake slithered after her with frightening speed. Even if she didn’t have the strength, she had to get Clarke back to Polis. No matter what.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations<br/>“Skrish, shof op” - shit, shut up<br/>“Jok… doba hisa” - fuck... double hisser</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. That Shit's Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lexa and Clarke are back in Polis.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know, this is a lot of angst, stick with us though! You’ll get some lightheartedness by chapter 5. On another note, been so busy we almost missed this week’s update. Oops. And yes, I skipped the whole running away from the snake thing, cause honestly even Lexa can’t fight off something that big by herself while protecting Clarke.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Finally you’re back-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not now, Titus. Guards call the medic!” Lexa interrupted, barging into the tower and immediately racing to the nearest room where a fancy chaise lounge was conveniently the closest. As gently as possible, she laid Clarke down. Clarke, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ai haiheda</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what if the snake had hurt her badly? She should never have let Clarke get into danger in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nearest guard ran off while Titus scuttered after Lexa into the room and attempted to continue his tirade. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> neglect your duties for a mere girl, Heda! If word got out-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SHOF OP, TITUS!”Lexa screamed. She was so done with all the conflicting emotions. She wanted to protect Clarke, but she could tell being near Clarke only hurt her, angered her, and brought her trauma forth. Her heart clenched at the words Clarke said in the forest. Even words screamed in a haze of rage had their bite. Still, she couldn’t have Clarke running off into danger once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Titus flinched and Lexa immediately regretted it. Titus meant well. “Sorry… just, not now okay? I’ll get back to my duties right after this. I have not forgotten them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips curled into a frown but nodded. How could Lexa ever forget about her responsibilities? They constantly sat on her shoulders, they were in front of her eyes every waking moment in this tower, in all of Polis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heda, the healer is here,” the guard announced hastily. The healer rushed in and immediately walked towards Lexa. Lexa shook her head and pointed to Clarke. The healer didn’t relent however, and grabbed her left arm. “I’ll get to the girl after this. It’ll be quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa hissed. She hadn’t even noticed the acid poison from the snake getting on her arm in her rush to escape. Lexa looked at Clarke with somber eyes. Clarke’s words had made it clear that she truly didn’t like Lexa around. That was okay. If Clarke truly hated her so much she would make herself sparse as long as it meant Clarke was safe.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****************</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke awoke a few hours later, and shot up. Pain shot through her side. Clarke grit her teeth, hissing in pain and grabbed at her side with her other hand. She brought her hand up to cup her head with her other hand, a headache was beginning to brew. Her eyes adjust to the bright flares of the candles surrounding her. Flashes of what just happened flew by at a dizzying speed in her mind. The double headed snake and Lexa ready to sacrifice herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cloth wrapped all the way around her, just under her chest and a little above her waist. She heard someone coming from down the hallway just outside the doors. There was a small knock but before Clarke could say anything the doors swung open. Carol strolled right into the room, shutting the doors behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh perfect, you’re awake!” She gave Clarke a warm smile, one your grandparents gave you after you hadn’t seen them for months at a time. Clarke couldn’t help smiling back despite the pain she was in. Carol made her way over to the side of the bed and pulled up a nearby chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a platter of food in her hands. She sat the platter across Clarke’s lap before sitting down in the chair next to her. Clarke turned her head to face the woman before looking at the food in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke picked up one of the slices of bread and studied at it for a few minutes. That damned noble commander was now supplying her food too. If Lexa hadn’t grabbed her, she would’ve gotten away without attracting the attention of the snake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol cleared her throat and Clarke looked at the woman out of the corner of her eyes. The woman gave her a knowing look and gestured for her to eat. Clarke nodded and took a small bite of the bread slice she was holding. Her stomach was growling, like a beast roused from sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Clarke had finished all of the food that had been placed in front of her she let out a sigh of satisfaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol stood up from her seat and grabbed the platter from Clarke’s lap, placing it on the chair she was sitting on moments ago. “Take it easy, your left side took a pretty good amount of damage. A broken rib tends to heal in a little under a month, you’ll just be in pain and discomfort until it does heal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke licked her lips and croaked out, “Oh. I see.” Her voice was raspy from lack of use. The pain made much more sense now. She couldn’t remember exactly what happened after she was wacked by the tail of the mutated snake. She rested her hand on her left side again and took a deep breath in to try to ease the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time when Carol gave her a pitying look, Clarke snapped. She didn’t want pity. It was the look everyone gave her, especially her mother. “It’s just a busted rib,” she grumbled. “I'm not dead or crippled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol shook her head in amusement at the stubborn sky girl and turned to grab the platter, she began making her way to the door and Clarke stopped her. “Wait,” Clarke called out to her. Her mind was racing with possibilities and as much as she tried to stop her thoughts they clouded her mind. “Is Lexa alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh escaped Carol’s lips. Clarke felt her face heat up. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about Lexa the way Carol thought she did. “The Heda is alright. Now get yourself looking more put together we’re going for a walk.” Carol didn’t wait for an answer before walking out and closing the doors behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lexa is okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her feelings were exhaustively complicated. At the same time that she was glad Lexa didn’t die, the fact that Lexa mattered to her at all was irritating. This girl had betrayed her, yet she still found herself wondering how she was doing. Self hatred burned bright. She would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about Lexa, that backstabbing bitch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke slumped back into the bed and laid down. She lay there for a few moments on her back, keeping her breathing steady as that was the best way to ease her pain. She let her eyes close, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Just a few minutes to rest and then I will get ready to go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*        *        *</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke ended up sleeping through the rest of that day. Carol came in to wake her up the next day. Although Clarke knew the physical “therapy” was needed, she still winced and grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Clarke got dressed with some old clothes Carol had found “lying around”. Clarke had insisted on wearing her old clothes, but Carol said they were completely ruined after the snake. Clarke didn’t really believe her, but she didn’t really have any other options. Eventually she relented grudgingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as Clarke pulled the hood of the cloak she was given over her hair that she heard a knock. “Come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol strolled in, a girl in the shadows behind her. Clarke immediately donned a scowl. She was going to show Lexa exactly how much she hated her for keeping her prisoner here. Her scowl slid off her face when she realized the girl was most definitely not Lexa. Being taller was the first and most definitely not last difference between them. The girl kneeled to Clarke and spoke, “Wanheda, I am Ava of Trishanakru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s head spun at the title of “Wanheda”. Every time Clarke heard it, she was reminded of all the painful memories. The way Jasper held Maya as she died in his arms, the way she felt when Lexa walked away from her, all echoed in her head again and again. She had broken apart families, killed innocent children, killed her friends' partner, and she needed to suffer the pain. Clarke clutched at her chest and stumbled back into the bed before sitting down. She couldn’t breathe. She was suffocating from the guilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke barely registered the door opening and closing. She felt the bed sink and looked up to see Carol sitting next to her</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still clutching her chest, felt tears well in her eyes, and wiped them away quickly. “You're hurting,” Carol stated softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I am. I have a broken rib!” she gurgled out through a sob. The old woman cringed at the volume of her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I meant to say was, you’re hurting emotionally.” Clarke felt her stomach twist unpleasantly. Clarke bit her lower lip and turned her face away from Carol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol only sighed and stood up, she reached a hand out toward Clarke as if to help her off the bed. Clarke grabbed Carol’s hand and slowly stood up. “Here you may be whatever you see yourself as. As long as you let enjoy Polis.” She gave Clarke a warm smile and Clarke couldn't help but give a tiny smile back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although the pain in her ribs was searing and she felt another headache beginning to form, she couldn't help but excited. She’d never seen a city like this before. She knew the weight of Wanheda would not disappear just because of that. Hell, she knew it would never truly disappear as she can't change her actions. But the thought of exploring Polis was enough for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They made their way to the door with Carol supporting Clarke and Carol opened the doors. Ava stood dutifully in the hallway. Clarke finally got a good look at her. Her hair was a bit shorter than Lexa’s, Ava was much more muscular, and her forehead was adorned by dots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be joining to keep you safe. Are we ready to go?” Carol nodded and Ava looked at Clarke to confirm. She nodded silently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, they started their journey out of the tower. Clarke eyed every room, looking for Lexa. It was hard not to be curious about a giant tower like this, but most of all it was hard not to think about Lexa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, they stepped out of the tower and Clarke took in a deep breath of fresh air. The street was bustling and lively before her, sellers calling to people walking by and advertising their goods. Polis was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ai haiheda - oh my god<br/>Wanheda, ai laik Eva kom Trikru: Commander of Death, I am Ava of the woods clan</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Behind it All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke starts to understand more about Wanheda, Lexa receives a letter!<br/>Am I the only one who had the blues clues song playing in my head at that last part of the sentence?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, we skipped the update for the day after Christmas, forgive us. OneKast was busy and I was filling out Christmas prompts.<br/>But, I am REALLY, REALLY, excited for this chapter because things are finally picking up pace… and also because maybe, just maybe, we rewrote it like six times to get it right.</p><p>This chapter is dedicated to Northern_Insanity, who we have noticed always comments and encourages us and leaves kudos.</p><p>UPDATED NOTE: The end of this chapter does NOT imply suicide.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Polis was full of so much energy, she didn't know what to do, Clarke thought with a grimace. It was such a big difference from the woods in which she had survived the past few months. The woods that she had felt suffocated and guilty in. The chatter of townsfolk reminded her of the happy and carefree atmosphere in Mount Weather. She had destroyed all of it with just a pull of a lever. All those lives, just gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As they walked Carol pointed interesting things out, like different wares and treats. Clarke drifts towards the faint music from one of the tent-like shops. They made their way to the table that was playing the music. Her heart started feeling a little lighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes gazed at the table trying to find something that catches her eye. The seller behind the table tilts her head, “Na ai sis au yu, Wanheda?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s eyes shot up and she locked them with the woman behind the table. She had no idea what was just said. In the end she settled for a shake of her head as a response. Clarke bit her lower lip and stepped away from the table, not knowing what else to do. Her head was starting to spin at the title.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except instead the woman got up and pushed an intricately carved dagger into her hands, talking away in rapidfire Trigedasleng as Clarke tried to shake her head and refuse the gift. There was a reverence in the woman’s eyes that sent a chill down Clarke’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke thanked anybody who was listening when Carol stepped in and accepted the gift for her. When the now crying woman finally left to go back to manning her stall, Carol handed the dagger to Clarke with a small smile. “She said her son was captured by the maunon (mountain men) and turned into a ripa (reaper), and had asked the Commander for a picture of the legendary Commander of Death who had freed her son so she could thank her specially. Take it. It’s yours to keep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With shaking hands, Clarke takes the dagger. The weight of the glinting bejeweled dagger feels wrong in her hands. To get rewarded for her biggest regret felt like injustice. “Legendary…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol chuckled, “My dear, Wanheda is a legend here. It is said she possesses a spirit equal or even greater than the flame itself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke looks at the dagger again, the weight suddenly heavier than ever. It makes her want to puke. She shoves the dagger into an inner pocket of her cloak. At least that way she can’t see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carol kept an arm around her, allowing Clarke to lean her weight onto the older woman. Ava followed closely behind the two, not saying anything but keeping an eye out for any danger. As they walked away, Carol avidly babbled away about the wonders of Polis. Pride lined her words. Clarke kept her head down trying to make as little eye contact with people as possible. Clarke supposed she was lucky that with her hood up, most people couldn’t recognize her. Of course, Clarke had picked up on the legend she had become, but she hadn’t thought that she could possibly have </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much influence on these people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could hear the crunching of the leaves under her foot as she took each step. The bustling screams of children whirled past her. Clarke tried her best to shun it out, that was until she was stopped abruptly by a child passing by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s eyes shot up quickly, the boy in front of her was no older than seven. His hair was a dark brown, and was down to his shoulders, pulled back by a braid running down the side of his head. He looked up at Clarke and she couldn’t help giving him a small smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled brightly back at Clarke and she immediately felt a warm feeling start to fester in her heart. It was something unlike anything she felt since her arrival in Polis or even the ground in general. She felt some of her anger melt away at the moment she had between her and this little boy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miya!” A deep voice grumbled and the boy ran off towards the owner of the voice and hugged the man's legs. She watched as the man grabbed his son's hand with an affectionate hair ruffle, and they made their way into a nearby shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It reminded her of how she would greet Jake when he came home from work in the evenings. The world was so carefree it was jarring. The talk of war didn’t reach this peaceful haven. She suddenly realized this is exactly what she strived to create. From the heavenly baked goods she tried, to the amazing street musicians and artists. She was in awe of the amount of sheer skill in everyone’s work. These were things that were never on the ark because they weren’t necessary. The Ark may have been home and better than the constant war they found on the ground, but it was nothing compared to this. This world was </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she saw for once, what she wanted for what remained of the Ark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A familiar hawk swooped itself through the open window, slicing through the night air with ease as it landed on the perch situated next to Lexa’s desk. Lexa smiles and puts down the report she was reading. The hawk tilt’s its head into her hand when she reaches to pet it. The dim lighting cast shadows over her face that exaggerated the tired lines. Lexa grabs a strip of meat from her still untouched dinner plate and tosses it at the hawk. She catches it easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eagerly, Lexa unties the small rolled up piece of paper from the hawk’s leg and unfolds it. She leans back in her chair as she reads, the candles that serve a dual purpose of light and just because the sheer amount of them, heat to ward off the chilly night air as well, illuminating the paper and her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Defender of Mankind,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Titus has always been uptight like that. You’re the only one who could ever get him to change his mind. It helped that you were his favorite. Of course you could always come to me, but you would never run away like that. Not like me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is not easy for one to forgive, but you cannot afford to forget that not everyone is like us. The girl you speak of has a right to be angry. As for your concern over how irrational you become concerning the girl, you were always like that. Even back when it was Cos you were smitten with and there was Titus, Anya, and Gustus to scold you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m no love guru, I’m not sure what to tell you. If you’re really </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>that</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> concerned though, maybe letting go is the best thing you could do. It seems like even a professional relationship is hurting both of you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just so you don’t ask this pointlessly in your return letter, no I have not found a “new companion in bed” as you phrase it. I’ve never had one and never needed one. If you were out here with the ocean winds streaming through your hair I’m sure you would understand too. Peace gets addictive. It might just be turning me soft. You won’t ever beat me in a spar though.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t forget to feed Yaretzi</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-The Moon</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa chuckles softly at the end of the letter. They both knew there was no way she was turning soft. This woman may be unreadable, but she had also taught Lexa to be accepting, that maybe war wasn’t everything in this world. Sometimes Lexa thought perhaps she was the only one in the Coalition who believed it other than herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After feeding Yaretzi a few more strips of meat, she picks up her pen and a piece of paper and starts writing back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear the Moon…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s nerves were starting to fray. Carol and Ava were wonderful company, but it was obvious they were under orders to spend all their time keeping an eye on Clarke in rotation. The fact that Lexa had tried to hide her guards under the guise of people helping her made her even more angry inside. She was tired of being treated like a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the amazing hot chocolates, coffee, teas, cookies, and all the sweet treats and savory meals Clarke had never gotten on the Ark helped to dissuade that notion. However, it wasn’t long until she noticed that it was practically impossible that she would coincidentally not bump into Lexa at all for an entire two weeks. Heck, she’d even walked into a scowling Titus once, and Titus never wanted to see her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Clarke was sure she was being kept to be used, but after two weeks she realized Lexa didn’t even intend to do that. So when Carol suggested another day of exploring the markets, and Ava suggested yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>another</span>
  </em>
  <span> chess game Clarke snapped. “Again? I bet Lexa’s telling you guys to stick to certain activities isn’t she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence as Carol and Ava stared back was revealing. It was the confirmation of something Clarke hadn’t  wanted to know. Of course she’d guessed on the inside, but their silence, the actual confirmation of it was something she wasn’t ready for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As angrily as she possibly could with her broken rib, Clarke stormed out of the door and walked the opposite way of the market they frequented every day. She walked, and walked. Through her pained breaths, she heard Ava trailing not-so-discreetly behind her. The path went from stone to dirt, and then grass and moss started covering it. If only to ease her pain, Clarke slowed down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few steps later, she reaches the top of the hill she was ascending. She stands at the top of a small training arena, ringed in a semicircle of doubly functioning seats as well as stairs. The other end dropped off onto a cliff over a wall. In the middle was Lexa, sparring with a sandy haired boy furiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her braids whipped around her, hands spinning nimbly with her body. Her warpaint accentuated her chiseled cheeks, a sheen of sweat making her already tight clothes stick even tighter to her. Lexa was a whirlwind, furiously beautiful, if only you knew how to look for the beauty within. Her weapon moved faster than Clarke’s eyes could follow. All the children who had been training in pairs beforehand were now watched with a bated breath like Clarke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then the boy found a way in through Lexa’s defenses and Lexa teetered a stride backward before catching herself. Clarke took half a step forward before she could stop. Everyone in the proximity held their breath, waiting for the Heda’s next move. A stunned expression colored Lexa’s features, but then a most breathtaking pride bloomed on her face. Her lips quirked up into a smile, and the boy returned a grin. “Os job, Aden.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The children exploded forth with cheers, throwing the boy onto their shoulders, Lexa joining in to hoist him up, encouraging them in their childish antics. In this moment, Clarke had trouble remembering her anger. In front of her was Lexa, purely just Lexa; the person she was without Heda. The person who had been on the verge of tears when Clarke had backed her into the table in that tent. The person who had defied everything she had known when she kissed Clarke. The person who had invited Clarke to Polis with her when everything was done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so hard to reconcile this person with the coldhearted commander who told her she did what she needed to be done. How dare Lexa smile like that at these children as if nothing was wrong in the world after what she had done? How could she when Clarke was plagued with nightmares every night, every time she closed her eyes, every time she saw a happy family? If only she could free herself of all these burdens, free all of Arkadia from the Commander’s everlasting grasp. In fact, she could do it right now...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The name Lexa means the Defender of Mankind, so I used that as her alias. Hopefully you all know where I’m going with this.<br/>According to google Yaretzi means “you will always be loved”.<br/>Trigedasleng:<br/>Na ai sis au yu?- Can I help/assist you?<br/>Miya!- Come here!<br/>Os job - Well done</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I Never Meant to Turn You Into This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The knife scene with Clarke and Lexa re-done in our imagination.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING - THE FOLLOWING TOPICS MAY BE TRIGGERING. This includes panic attacks and an attempted depiction at split-personality. If these things trigger you, do not read this chapter.<br/>I am not trying to assume I know how Dissociative Identity Disorder works, and it is not written to offend anybody. It is written as part of the plot. If I wrote it wrong I apologize deeply and would be very grateful if you let me know what I did wrong just so I can correct this in the future. I understand that mental health issues manifest in different ways within everyone and perhaps this isn’t as inclusive, or accurate as it could be.</p><p>This is a very heavy chapter for plot reasons cause we had to get the plot moving. I'm sorry in advance.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A hush fell over the group all of the sudden and Lexa followed everyone’s eyes to Clarke. Clarke in all her splendor. Except it’s wrong, so wrong because her eyes are icy and piercing with none of the gentle strength that usually permeated Clarke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Flame, I wish to talk to you.” It was not a question, rather a demand of the highest order. Her voice is sharp and unforgiving, cutting through the tension in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa doesn’t know quite what to make of this. She has never seen this expression on Clarke before, not even when she is angry. Yet, she still turns to the nightbloods and Titus and says, “Dismissed. All of you. Ava and Titus too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Titus grumbled under his breath, but obediently led the kids away. Instead, it was Ava who started to protest. “Heda-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have to remind you of your failures to heed my orders so soon, Ava? Go,” Lexa interrupted, jutting her chin towards the exit. Ava opened her mouth to argue once again, but Lexa leveled a glare at her. “I do not want to hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava frowned, but scurried away. There was a long, pregnant, pause as Lexa watched the entrance after Ava had gone. The dirt crunched underneath Clarke’s foot as she approached, step by step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa finally turns back to Clarke. A chill raced down her spine. Something was wrong and she couldn’t pinpoint what. “You wanted to talk to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the acknowledgement, a sly, smug grin bled onto Clarke’s face. It was cold, not even teasingly so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clarke-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She surged forward, grabbing Lexa with one hand and pulling the dagger from her cloak and pushed it against Lexa’s neck with the other. Lexa froze and her eyes flew wide open. There was no way Clarke could move like that with her broken rib. The pain should be killing her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyes that looked back at her were inhumanly sharp. The blue has turned icy. Lexa had to admit in her moment of panic that (she totally wouldn’t admit that any other time) Clarke had angelic eyes normally, but this was beyond that. This person in Clarke that grinned back at her was more like the Commanders that spoke to her in the flame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s face leered in glee at Lexa’s realization. Her shrill laugh echoed throughout the practice arena. “That’s right, little flame. Clarke’s not here. It’s all Wanheda.” The knife pushed a little harder and broke skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa knew it was the truth. She had seen countless warriors break like this after one too many kills. They would switch back and forth as if there were two consciousnesses within them. The grounders treated them as if they were enlightened, but among other warriors, they all knew that they were broken. War had made them want to forget another part of them, and they’d done that by creating another personality for that part of themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, Lexa breathed out in a breath that was no louder than a whisper. The guilt consumed Lexa. Even if it was the correct choice as Heda, Leksa kom Trikru would always bear the weight that the repercussions of her choice came with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s hand shook. The iciness melted a little and something flickered in Clarke. Her breath was now coming out in uneven puffs that Lexa could feel on her lips sheerly because Clarke was so close. She shoved Lexa away and dropped the dagger. Tears welled in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never meant to turn you into this”, Lexa said quietly. “You’re free to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s hands weaved into her own blond locks and her breathing becoming erratic as she clutched at herself, gasping for breaths through her tears. Lexa tried to tell Clarke to breathe, but if Clarke heard her at all, she didn’t show it. This wasn’t good. Lexa stepped forward to put a hand on Clarke reassuringly, and as she did Clarke’s legs buckled. It was pure instinct when she surged forward and wrapped her arms around Clarke. Collapsed against Lexa, she was unconscious, but her breathing was evening out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa gives a huff of relief before sweeping Clarke up into her arms and heading back to her tower in Polis. In hindsight later, Lexa questioned why she had done so. She could’ve laid Clarke down on the floor and called a healer, or called any servant or guard or warrior to bring Clarke back to Clarke’s room. She would blame it on confusion. In that moment though, all Lexa knew was that Clarke felt warm and comforting in her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke wakes up slowly to too many candles. The grand room is absolutely filled with them, even close to the bed with the giant, elaborate, headboard. She does not understand Lexa’s need for the overabundance of candles, but she has to admit it keeps the place warm and is good decoration. Speaking of the avid candle owner, she sits next to the couch Clarke is on, in an armchair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa jumps to her feet like a kid on Christmas morning. “You’re awake.” She hurries over and asks how Clarke’s feeling and helps her sit up. It kind of reminds her of her mother. Yikes, Lexa and her mother in the same train of thought? Not something she wanted to do again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke ignored Lexa and wracked her brain. What had happened? She remembered storming off and then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. She had given into her anger. The Wanheda side of her that had pulled the lever had surfaced. The dried blood on Lexa’s neck proved it. “What the hell did I do”, Clarke murmured as she reached her hand out, trembling fingers ghosting over the wound on Lexa’s neck. The truth was she feared herself. That part of her was a monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa simply answered, “I’m okay. Nobody was hurt.” It struck Clarke that she was touching Lexa and that Lexa could easily have reached out to comfort Clarke. Instead she opted to look at Clarke with steady, reassuring eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt fractured. She retracted her hand and pulled it back to her lap. All she could see on her hands was blood. “It’s like holding back a monster within me. I don’t know when I will lose control to Wanheda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The insistence in her voice made Clarke look into her eyes. Eyes that shined as bright as an aurora borealis. Or at least, from what she’d seen in the photos and documentaries on the ark. It anchored her in the whirlwind of spinning thoughts within her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to fight it all the time. You can try to understand Wanheda instead and work with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke hesitates. That’s not an awful idea. It seems so obvious, and so easy when it’s said out loud, but before Lexa had said it, her situation had felt as hopeless as Jasper wanting to get with Octavia when the drop ship first arrived. She gives Lexa a wan smile. “Work with her, huh…? I suppose I can try that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa gives her a small smile in return. “Make a list of what you need and I’ll have your bags packed so you can go. I won’t hold you here if it only hurts you. Just don’t go running into the jaws of a doba hisa this time.” No, that wasn’t right. Clarke had just begun to find one person who could understand how she felt. Going back to the Ark would just make Skaikru a bigger target. She could help negotiate for Skaikru better from within Polis, Clarke convinced herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shakes her head subtly as Lexa reaches for a piece of parchment, pen, and a bottle of ink. “Wait. I have a better idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit stiffly on the couch in Lexa’s room, with an odd tension between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Lexa wasn’t stupid. She knew them working together was certainly not forgiveness. Lexa knew clearer than anyone that what they had was strictly for business. Yet, Lexa couldn’t help wanting to aid Clarke. Clarke had a golden set of morals that Lexa had never seen anyone else show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been so untainted, and Lexa had ruined that. Part of Clarke was broken and it was her fault. Slowly Lexa breathed out through her nose as she poured herself a glass of wine. She nods to the other glass on the table, “Do you want some, Clarke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thanks. I prefer a clear head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heda</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Lexa doesn’t like how Clarke chooses to use her honorary title instead of her name. She misses how her name rolls out of Clarke’s mouth. She leans back with her glass of wine. A glance at Clarke reveals the distrust in her eyes. Lexa attempts to push off the feelings it brings. She takes a sip of the wine to steady herself. Feelings have no place in this conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raises her eyes to Clarke’s. “I suppose you know the legend of Wanheda has gotten far and wide by now.” A nod supplies the answer she needs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All we need to do is give them a show. In three months, we hold our annual Carnival of Mardi Gras. It is an elaborate celebration with a parade, costumes, masks, and explosions of color.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The celebration from the religion before the radiation, Christianity”, Clarke answers understandingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa has no idea what Christianity is, but she goes along with it. “Yes, that. The chiefs of all 13 tribes come to Polis to celebrate for one week. We can announce a formal ascension of your status to Wanheda. Let them believe that the spirit of Wanheda has chosen you.” Lexa holds Clarke’s gaze the entire time, the electric blue sending shocks throughout her that made her want to squirm. She internally scolded herself. The commander does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> squirm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence stretches out so long she starts to get scared Clarke will say no, but then Clarke nods in agreement, “That should work.” It isn’t spoken, but it lingers in the air between them that Skaikru might side with Lexa as well if Clarke were to publicly side with Lexa. Things were looking up for once in Lexa’s age old rivalry with Nia. Now if only it would stay up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This festival will be placed in February, which means they are somewhere in October. This doesn’t specifically refer to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but rather the entire celebration around the world, including the Carnival of Venice. In this fanfiction, they still celebrate it because some traditions stick around while some do not. The original meaning, as you all will see, has pretty much been lost to the Grounders.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Candles???</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lexa shows Clarke around.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fanfic needed some lightening up, so that’s what most of this is.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lexa led the two of them through the streets of Polis. Clarke tried hard not to gape at Lexa who had shown up at her door with her hair wet and pulled back in a scarf, smelling like some sort of woody grounder soap. She wore loose clothes that were frayed at the ends and a dark, hooded robe that was cinched at the waist. Right, secrecy about Wanheda being in town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke kept her gaze down trailing behind the Commander by only a few inches. The wind in the shadowy morning bites. The shouting and music from the town echoed in Clarke’s ears as she tried to focus on just one sound. Life on the Ark was never this loud, Polis was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>overwhelming</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That mixed with the throbbing pain of her broken rib made it hard to form a thought. Thankfully, Lexa walked at a slow pace (probably for Clarke’s sake) or else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa stopped in her tracks which made Clarke pick her head up. They were stopped in front of a rundown brick building. The “door” was a brown cape like material, draped over the doorway. Lexa pulls the drape aside for Clarke like a valet would for his employer. Well, at least Lexa had good manners. Clarke wasn’t sure that quite made up for everything else, but it was one thing she could appreciate for certain after spending so much time with ungentlemanly delinquents. They were starting off on the right foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't take Clarke long to figure out what kind of place this was. “A candle shop? Really?” she scoffed. There were many Grounder traditions Clarke did not understand, but she was pretty sure a stock of candles and how to get them would not help her prepare for the Carnival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can wait outside if you wish.” Lexa said before turning on her heel and walking toward what looked to be the main table. Clarke sighed and walked around the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some candle’s we're already lit, which gave the inside a feeling of warmth. But the clashing scents were not working well for her, in fact she was sure she would get a migraine if they stayed in there for too long. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Lexa talking to one of the workers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked away only for a moment before coming back with a big cardboard box full of, of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>candles. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa gave the worker a small nod as he said “Leidon, Heda.” (Goodbye, Heda.) Lexa took the box and began walking back to where Clarke was standing. Clarke quickly turned around and pretended to be admiring one of the candles on a smaller table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa walked up behind her, “Do you want that one?” She asked, pointing to the one that Clarke had her eye on. Clarke whipped around quickly before shaking her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, let’s just continue on this tour shall we?” She asked, quickly seeing herself out of the building. Lexa stood there stunned for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed before she picked up the candle sitting on the table and placed it into her box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was going to be a long day, Clarke mused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Lexa brings her to a church-like building first. The once beautiful stained glass is now cracked and replaced</span> <span>with fabric and wood. It is still beautiful in it’s own rustic sort of way. The rows of benches are now replaced with bookshelves, one after another. </span></p><p>
  <span>Clarke can’t help but gasp with wide eyes. Lexa instinctively tenses up, ready to ask if she’s okay, before she realizes it is a gasp of surprise. A good type of surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shifted from foot to foot, not used to a person acting like this. Most people either try to challenge her or grovel at her feet. “I thought maybe you would benefit from reading up on our history. Most of the historical records are in Trigedasleng so that the general public may understand, but we’ll work on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All in all, they don’t spend long in the library. They only pull out three books on the religion of the Flame. The library is quiet and fairly unused. When she mentions this as the man at the desk records their loan of the books in a ledger, Lexa simply says that warriors are more focused on training, merchants more intent on selling, and craftsmen more intent on honing their skills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there they go to the blacksmith (Clarke winces at the sight of the wickedly sharp blades and wonders if there’s any way of avoiding using them sometime soon). Lexa introduces her to the blacksmith and drops off one of her swords for maintenance, which Clarke hadn’t even known she had hidden under her robes. Then it is a blur of the most important trade shops that Clarke desperately tries to place in her mental map; leathercraft, woodworking, and the apothecary. Clarke mentally jots down a special note for this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s tone and posture makes it clear just how proud she is of the people of this city and the lives they are leading under her leadership. Although she doesn’t blatantly smile, Lexa is not cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she knows it, Lexa has slowed down and Clarke looks up to see the Commander’s tower once again. The sun is now shining high in the sky, flooding the square with relative warmth. By now, the corpse of the Ambassador that Lexa kicked from the balcony has long been scraped off the floor, but Lexa is still glad because part of her doesn’t want Clarke seeing the barbarism.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leads Clarke to one of the elevator shafts and commands the elevator operators, “Nainti sis” (96). It is a quiet way up to the floor that Clarke’s room is on. When they finally step out (thank the spirits), Ava stood ramrod straight at attention in the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa turns and addresses Clarke only, barely sparing Ava a glance. “Ava will help you with basic things like learning Trigedasleng, how to walk lighter on your feet-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anya screamed at me for it when we were running away from Mt. Weather”, Clarke interrupts and then immediately regrets it at the way Lexa’s face turns to a mask as rigid as stone. Lexa doesn’t show hurt, she just clams up when she feels like she needs to protect herself, especially mentally and emotionally. Clarke shouldn’t have mentioned Anya. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nods, but her expression doesn’t change and her lips remain in a thin line. What hurts more is that Lexa doesn’t even glare at her. She just gives her the carefully composed one as she continues. “At dawn everyday I train with the nightbloods where you found me yesterday. You will train with us when you heal in two weeks. You will come to my quarters so I can personally check on your progress after dinner time until then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke nods as she opens her mouth to reply, but Lexa is already gone down the hall, off to whatever responsibility she has. Clarke’s feelings broil. Part of her wishes Lexa would stay, part of her is upset at herself that she brought up Anya, but she shouldn’t be. She shouldn’t have any remorse toward anything harsh she says to Lexa, because even if they’re working together, Lexa’s still the betrayer right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa wonders if tensing up in front of Clarke had been the correct choice. What they lacked in their semblance of a relationship was trust, and it wouldn’t help if Lexa tensed up whenever a sensitive topic came up. It was awfully hard for Lexa to think of opening up. She hadn’t since Costia. Anya had sort of just seen through her and known her from the beginning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By no means is she angry, but she has never discussed Anya’s death with anyone, and Ava had been standing right there. Curiously enough, the idea of discussing it with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t seem all that repulsive. Her heart lifts a little when she thinks of letting her feelings go and just telling Clarke, just like she had told Clarke of Costia on a whim in TonDC. These thoughts cloud her mind as she attempts (and fails) to meditate in her spot on the floor in front of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock on the door rings out through the room and Lexa’s eyes fly open. “Lexa?” Clarke’s voice sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A glance out the window tells her that it is much later than she had anticipated. Report, after report, after conflict has been dumped on Lexa in a barrage. So much so that Lexa once again, forgot the meal that has been delivered to her and is not sitting on the coffee table in the sitting area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stands up and glances down and then around to check that she and her room look presentable before setting her shoulders back. It’s okay, she tells herself. It’s just Clarke. Only, her heart is beating, her palm is clammy and the butterflies in her stomach most definitely indicate otherwise.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Slow and Steady Wins the Race</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke slowly starts learning.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OneKast has some personal things to attend to, so this chapter was written by me and just reviewed by OneKast.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lexa is completely unprepared for Clarke’s arrival because she is once again buried neck deep in reports all day, and attempting to meditate to clear her head when a knock resounds through the room. Right, dinner. Lexa had forgotten about the meal entirely. She would have to keep track of meals better from now on. Not because she needed to eat, but because she needed to know when Clarke would arrive every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today Ava should’ve been teaching you how to silence your footsteps, radon (right)?” Lexa asks as soon as the door closes behind Clarke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I never thought walking took so much skill until today”, Clarke responds with a grimace, not bothering to hide her distaste. Lexa can’t help but smile a little at her honesty. Clarke is just like that, stubborn, honest, and never minces her words. One could call it stupidity, but Lexa preferred to call it bravery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa examines Clarke for a few seconds. “Demonstrate”, she commands, pointing at the bed and then the couch. “From here to there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke does as she is told, slowly walking in a way that won’t make her shoes echo on the stone. Although her head is down and her pace is slow, Lexa can’t hear Clarke’s footsteps nearly as loudly as she used to. Lexa smiles in approval. “That is good progress. Shopta? (How are you?)”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke is momentarily stunned. Lexa doesn’t smile often. She blinks a few times before she realizes Lexa has asked her something and then frowns, trying to piece together the words to answer. She fumbles through her sentence when it comes out of her mouth, “Os. En…. Uhm. En yu? (Good. And… uhm. And you?)”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ded, ai don ge hosen. (Tired, I have been busy.)” Lexa really has no idea why she answers truthfully. When people ask her courteously she usually answers with brushing them off anyway. Clarke doesn’t need to be any different. Except Clarke </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> different to Lexa, she has been from the start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke frowned, her face scrunching up in a way that Lexa was tempted to smile at. She absolutely adored how Clarke looked when she was confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa chuckles, “That is good. You have improved, and a lot of small improvements over time will turn into a big improvement.” Clarke’s lips turn up a little. It isn’t a smile, but it’s there, and it’s much better than nothing. Clarke looks as if she’s about to leave, but she doesn’t and simply stands there, shifting from foot to foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually wanted to ask you if it was okay if I worked with healer Garrick. His wife runs the apothecary and she said he always needs an extra hand and would love to learn how skaikru heals”, Clarke says. She is hesitant, as if she’s not sure if she should speak up about this at all, and Lexa finds that her hesitance hurts more than any of Clarke’s rejections because Lexa knows it is her own fault that Clarke is so subdued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to ask for permission as long as it doesn’t interfere with training, Clarke… I’m not in charge of your life,” Lexa answers softly. Her expression is unmasked as she looks at Clarke in a way that is almost hopeful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke understands that she is extending the proverbial olive branch, that Lexa is trying to make her understand that she truly is not a prisoner here. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is another thing, Clarke. Skaikru is invited to the Carnival of Mardi Gras, as an act of friendliness from the Coalition.” Lexa says this, and it is like a bomb dropped. It is dead silence as Clarke computes this new information. It is a good thing Lexa is rather patient. At least, with Clarke she’s really patient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Clarke nods and says, “Thank you for letting me know in advance.” Clarke looks so uncomfortable with this news, almost as if she’s ready to run away again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clarke… if you want I can rescind the invitation”, Lexa offers, although she has no idea how she is going to do that without breaking the already shaky relationship they have with Skaikru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke sets her jaw. Limitless determination sets her spine straight. “No. I won’t run away from it. They’ll have to know no matter what. This way we can get everything over quicker with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa however, isn’t sure Clarke’s actually ready for this. She knows she can’t interfere with this though. It is Clarke’s call.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava is certainly a forgiving teacher to Clarke. In fact she is so forgiving, Clarke almost forgets she is a trained and hardened warrior. She smiles and applauds Clarke whenever she achieves more. Ava is patient and understanding to Clarke’s fumbling and Clarke’s pain. She gives Clarke more water breaks than even Clarke needs with a broken rib.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The practice outside of Polis in a small clearing covered in moss. When Clarke is able to slowly walk across the clearing without staring entirely at her feet and doesn’t disturb a leaf or branch or pebble, Ava is the one who breaks into a grin and cheers. “You did it, Clarke!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava all but skips over to the basket of lunch they have brought and pulls out scrumptious looking slices of pies. “Teik ‘sir choj op (Let us eat). I had Chef Grant make a pie to celebrate your progress.” Clarke is proud that she can now understand the phrase from Ava.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava waves Clarke over and Clarke can’t help but smile, because her peppiness is infectious, a far cry from Lexa’s stoicness. She spreads out a blanket on the floor and holds out a hand to help Clarke sit down, but Clarke swats it away as always. It was endearing, but Clarke liked being able to do things on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After lunch Clarke heads off to healer Garrick’s where there is already a line into the building. Clarke has to admit it reminds her of her mother’s work. The being lined up to see the doctor anyway. Except the mothers that are bringing their children are sociable and interact with each other, and the streets aren’t dead quiet like the hallways of the ark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping in through the doorway, Garrick (a tall and lanky man that resembled string bean) immediately, “Oh Clarke! Bos (good), you’re here. That gouda (child) needs stitches after falling off a wall.” Clarke turns to see a little toddler screaming and crying in the arms of a mother desperately trying to hold him still, a gash bleeding down arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was something about this that made this experience in Polis human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is after Clarke leaves a few days later that Lexa hears tapping on her window. She hurries over to open it for Yaretzi, who swoops in as gracefully as ever. Lexa let’s her land on her bracer and deftly unties the note from Yaretzi’s leg. It has been a while since the last letter returned, and Lexa is eager to devour the response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Defender of Mankind,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m guessing by the time this gets to you, the preparations for the Carnival of Mardi Gras will have started.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are correct, there are many people who suffer the same affliction that you describe of the skaikru girl. It may not be something you can inherently help because it is ultimately inside her head. Here, we practice attempting to avoid things that trigger the switch in personalities. If you can find out what that is for the girl it should be immensely helpful. Of course the same could be said that if somebody else found out, they could use it to make her a bloodthirsty Wanheda, so it is metaphorically a double edged blade.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am proud of you strisis (little sister). You have finally let go of Costia.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If your negotiations with skaikru through Wanheda truly prove fruitful, I will personally go to Arkadia to learn of this new tek(tech) they possess. It will be good for Floukru to know as much as possible even if we are to never use them violently. Perhaps they will have tek for the retired gonas (warriors), who have lost a limb to battles.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish you well from the sea,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-The Moon</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of Lexa feels lighter. She has nobody to talk to, especially within the walls of the tower. Criss-crossing politics is a double-headed snake that will bite you at any time. This person however, she was sure the intentions of. Perhaps she wasn’t exactly on Lexa’s side, but at least she never masked her intentions. Not anymore anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, Lexa wonders if there’s a possibility she will see her if she really comes to learn about skaikru tech. It has been a long year, and an even longer eight years that she has been able to interact with her like the Nightblood sisters they are. In fact the last eight years since Lexa ascended have been too long, and she is a very different person than she once was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, dwelling on that wouldn’t help her. She sighed and mentally started compiling a list of the things that seemed to make Clarke uncomfortable, filtering through all her memories of Clarke. It wasn’t all that hard, Clarke seemed to take up a lot of her thinking space nowadays. Slowly she drifts off, in her thoughts until the lights seem to dim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaretzi watches as Lexa falls asleep sitting upright on the couch, cocking her head in a distinctly bird-like fashion. She flutters her wings so she is on Lexa’s pauldron and nudges Lexa’s drooping head with no avail. After determining that the girl is indeed not going to feed her, Yaretzi glides off Lexa’s shoulder and lands solidly in her uneaten dinner, picking the meat off the plate happily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Progress is slow with Clarke, but it’s there. By the end of the first week of training with Ava and working with Garrick, Clarke has learned a lot more Trigedasleng. Of course, she only does small things with Garrick for now, like wrapping up wounds from small work accidents, but it teaches Clarke a lot about the Grounder version of medicine. In addition to that she has learned with Garrick, she has learned to almost silence her footsteps and the basics of tracking as well as sharpening a blade. Of course, to avoid aggravating Clarke’s injury too much, Ava has her practice on a small dagger instead of a large sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, Lexa knows of all this improvement from her daily check-ins with Clarke, and also Ava’s reports (not that Clarke needs to ever know about those). However, she is still caught off guard when Clarke is leaving and says, “Reshop, Heda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa freezes, the words echoing in her skull. She has mostly communicated to Clarke in Gonasleng out of courtesy. She understands better than anyone just how hard it is to communicate in your non-native language when you’ve had a long and tiring day. Clarke has never initiated speaking in Trigedasleng. Lexa’s heart beats so fast she wonders if it’s about to leap out of her chest and through the nightgown she is wearing so that it can run to Clarke. In another way, it is Clarke showing that she respects Lexa and her culture enough to use Lexa’s native language to speak to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is knowing this, that Lexa finally unties her knotted tongue and returns the courtesy. “Goodnight, Clarke.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Her Remiinder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They start actually training.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have started putting the translations in parenthesis so that you don’t have to scroll to the bottom every time we put Trig. Hopefully that isn’t confusing anybody and makes the reading experience better</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The day Clarke is finally declared fully healed by Garrick is a clear and sunny day. The birds chirp in the trees as Clarke wakes up at the crack of dawn. Curse Lexa and her nightbloods for training so early in the morning. She finds the training arena using a map Ava drew her. As the dirt path turns into familiar moss once again, Clarke shoves the piece of parchment into one of the inner pockets of her cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nightbloods are all standing in perfect rows at attention. Lexa faces them, speaking in Trigedasleng. “Deyon, osu don hanga. Hai nou sousou. (Today, we have a visitor. Foolishness will not be tolerated.)”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the nightbloods are disbanded and Lexa beckons Clarke forward with a small smile and hands behind her back. “Clarke, you didn’t have too hard of a time finding this place did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke shakes her head as she takes her cloak off and drops it on one of the steps, “Ava drew me a map yesterday so I would know where to find it.” The cloak may keep her warm, but it would get in the way and she would warm up eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa frowns on the inside. Why hadn’t Clarke just asked her last night instead of Ava? On the outside, she is completely stoic and composed, head held high and spine rigid. “We’re going to start with the basic stance for fighting with a sword.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa picks up a practice sword and drops easily into a combative stance. “You need your feet wide like this, your dominant foot should be slightly in front of your non-dominant, like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke observes, trying to memorize as much of the stance as possible and Lexa suddenly feels the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Eventually Clarke seems satisfied that she has remembered enough and picks up a sword from the nearby rack and mimics Lexa’s pose. It isn’t too far off but her stance is a tad too wide and Lexa steps next to her to fix her grip on the sword. Clarke is tempted to reach out and touch Lexa’s hands, with their intricate calluses that tell a lifetime of fighting and history. Instead, she lets Lexa shift her fingers on the handle of the sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa taps her fingers on Clarke’s hips. “May I? To correct your stance”, Lexa asks. Clarke is surprised that Lexa asks for permission. It’s almost as if Lexa is too shy to touch her, which is ironic compared to her usual self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead.” Lexa’s touch on her is like fire at first, but then she tells herself to focus and calm down. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Clarke kept getting distracted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke attempts to bend backward out of the way of Lexa’s sword, which stops at an expert distance of one centimeter away from impaling her in the ribs, and ends up slipping and landing on her butt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa frowns, “That is not correct, Clarke. You look like me when Anya first trained me at three years old, and the sword was three times too big for me.” Lexa calls over one of the nightbloods and tells him to attack her and dodges the way Clarke should’ve in demonstration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t hold back, do you?” Clarke grumbles as she falls back into stance. Lexa was certainly not lax, that’s for sure. She pushed Clarke about as hard as she did her nightbloods, and even encouraged Clarke to practice on her own time. Just mastering how to swing her sword properly took Clarke an entire day of training and replicating the movement afterward for the entire day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s so taxing Clarke has stopped going to help Garrick, but Garrick doesn’t seem to mind if that’s any consolation. It was relieving being able to move around without being careful, and the fatigue helped her get out of her own head. The only thing Clarke truly misses about being a healing patient is her nightly check-ins with Lexa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course her training in the morning with the nightbloods is much more productive, but her check-ins with Lexa have a much more intimate type of tone set. Here, Lexa is all business. Not that it doesn’t present some upsides. Lexa was captivating when she fought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like right now as Lexa lunges forward, thrusting her blade in a stabbing motion. Clarke attempts to remember the correct momentum before sidestepping to dodge it, knowing that she has probably done it incorrectly once again. To her surprise though, there are no critiquing words to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up slowly to find Lexa grinning at her, sword lowered. “Os job, Klark. (Good job, Clarke.) Now, to parry.” Clarke tries to catch her breath as Lexa slowly demonstrates just the arm movement with the sword, but it is rather hard because Lexa is absolutely breathtaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa finishes her demonstration and looks at Clarke expectantly. Clarke begins to get into stance, but is interrupted by Titus walking over, his distrust and hatred of Clarke completely unmasked. “Heda, it is time for the nightbloods to get back to the tower for their studies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa glances at the sun to check the time. Training time is indeed over. She claps her hands loudly to get the attention of the nightbloods. “Natblidas! Os job deyon! Osu kigon moron. (Nightbloods! Good job today! We will continue tomorrow.)”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke and Lexa watched side by side as the nightbloods lined up in two rows behind Titus and filed out. As they left, the chattering receded until the two of them stood in silence, just watching the exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke chances a glance at Lexa to see that Lexa is staring straight at her. She tries to convince herself that immediately looking away and walking over to grab her cloak from the steps is not because Lexa’s gaze makes her face heat up. “Aden is really good”, Clarke comments, attempting to avoid any potential words Lexa could have about her actions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sha (yes), he is. Better than I was before my conclave. He will make a fine leader”, Lexa answers. Clarke turns back around as she pulls her cloak on to see Lexa staring off. Her mind is off somewhere contemplating the future, and Clarke knows it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine? You’re already an amazing leader, so if Aden is half as good as you’re saying he is, then he’s going to be way more than fine”, Clarke snorts. The duality of this woman was insane. Sometimes she was the cockiest person Clarke knew, and that included Bellamy. On other days though, it was as if she truly didn’t understand that she stood on top of the world and that everyone looked at her and watched her, no matter if they feared her, respected her, idolized her, or even lusted over her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes drift over to meet Clarke’s. “Do you really think so?” She doesn’t say no, she doesn’t reject Clarke’s idea and shut it down. She never does. Lexa is just like that. She always puts in consideration to everyone’s words as much as she possibly can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be standing here attempting this plan if I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nods slowly, taking in this new information. Clarke isn’t sure what Lexa does with the information inside her head. Does she forget about it? That doesn’t seem like a very Lexa thing to do. Yet, there was no way for Clarke to possibly tell with Lexa’s impenetrable stoicness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let us head back for lunch too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This meeting is going in circles. Lexa has been sitting through this insufferable meeting for the past two hours, and not one of the advisors and ambassadors were giving her options that were remotely viable. Not even Indra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you all just going to give me bullshit ideas that even children can top, over and over again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Lexa scoffs in Trigedasleng. She wouldn’t be surprised if her scowl was permanently etched on her face after the amount of it she has been doing in this meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Heda, whatever you do, inviting skaikru to our festivities will not help. What if they terrorize the citizens?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the Sangedakru ambassador raises in outrage. He is a rather severe looking man, with dark skin and a tall physique.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa slams her dagger down on the table they’re all seated around, standing up from her throne that has been placed at the head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is exactly what I was talking about. You all skirt around the topic. Azgeda has refused to send a replacement ambassador, and their army is marching into Trikru territory.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Azgeda might just be training, and after what you did to their last ambassador, can you blame them? Indra has already set up a defensive line too, no more is needed</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, Ouskejonkru ambassador answers bravely. She stares straight at Indra as she says it and Indra scowls, ready to bite back. The ambassador seems almost gleeful at the reaction that she elicits out of Indra until she catches Lexa’s death glare. She shrinks back into her seat and mumbled, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>There is nothing wrong with being overly cautious though…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa leans forward, her palms flat on the long and thick oak table, taking in a breath through her nose. There were better ways to spend their time than bickering. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s enough. Today’s meeting is adjourned. We will convene again tomorrow at the same time. I better hear ideas that are worth a shit at that time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, Lexa finds Clarke in the courtyard. She is practicing her sword skills by abusing the trunk of a tree in the courtyard with a wooden training sword when Lexa approaches her. Clarke hears her and stops to turn to face her. “To what do I owe this visit, commander?” Clarke asks with a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have some time to go with me to the tailor? Both you and I need to get fitted for our Mardi Gras outfits, and you need to get fitted for armor. You’ll need it in the tournament on the second day of the Carnival”, Lexa answers in explanation as she comes to a stop in front of Clarke. Nobody trails her today, and she is already dressed in yet another tattered robe with her hair down like every time she doesn’t want to get recognized. Clarke supposes that changing out the robe might throw people off her track.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have time”, Clarke answers, pulling her hood up and falling in step with Lexa. “You seem to like that look. Maybe you should wear it more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa blinks at her several times before she formulates a response. It comes in the form of extremely quiet words. So quiet Clarke would’ve missed it if they weren’t in a silent alleyway. “Before my conclave, when I had free time I preferred to let my hair down like this and let them rest from the braids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Clarke feels like she has crossed a boundary, just like when Lexa had shared about Costia; the first time Clarke had ever even heard of “love is weakness. It’s an odd thing to think of Lexa as a kid who could run around with her hair billowing behind her, free and unhindered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After my conclave I never had the time to do anything that wasn’t strictly necessary for my duties as Heda. I was too tired to think about what I wanted to do that makes me happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke smiles a small smile and jokes, “Perhaps somebody else should remind you once in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reach the end of the alleyway where it meets the main road of Polis, and Lexa stops to face her. It is then, as Lexa looks at her with this odd mix of hope and restraint and conflict that Clarke realizes what she said wrong. Clarke had been the one to remind her before the mountain.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Stitch and Sketch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clothes, armor, action! Nah, just kidding they're just gonna get fitted for everything.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all! As some of you may be aware, Clexaweek is coming up at the beginning of March. 3/3/2021 marks half a decade since Lexa was killed off, so OneKast and I have been working on a series of drawings, edits, fanfictions, and animations for that week.<br/>However, we still do have studying, work, and daily life. In addition to that, the next chapter is really important, which means we’re trying to pay special attention to how we write it and portray it. Therefore, the next update will be postponed until 3/13/21.<br/>All our other fanfictions that we do on our own will update as scheduled.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke’s head spun at all the options and terminology of armor that Lexa and the blacksmith was going over with her. She starts frowning more and more as they ask her more on what she wants and the blacksmith measures her from head to toe. Abruptly, Lexa puts a hand up to signal the blacksmith to stop. The blacksmith all but jumps away with the tape measure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clarke, if I recall correctly, Ava never taught you the parts of the armor, did she?” Lexa queried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sha”, Clarke affirmed, giving an internal breath of relief that somebody has realized she has no idea whatsoever what is going on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa frowns. She looks like she wants to do a facepalm. “Can you perhaps… draw what you would like?” Before Clarke can even answer the blacksmith has hurried off to grab it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can.” Clarke isn’t really sure what she really needs to protect the most and what would help her with the tournament because she’s never actually worn armor, but she supposes that drawing her idea of what she sees so far can’t hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the blacksmith hurries back with charcoal and a piece of parchment, Clarke sketches the pieces of armor that she can envision. At first she starts drawing basic, standard armor. Then she realizes that to the grounders that they are putting this show on for, Clarke is Wanheda, the woman who fell from the sky. Starting from there, the armor rapidly evolves into a work of art. By the time Clarke finishes and holds the paper up to the light coming in through a window, the design is beautiful, intricate, stylish, and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Completely impractical”, Lexa says as she observes the paper from over Clarke’s shoulder. “It is a beautiful concept, but does not work whatsoever for its function as armor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke turns around, surprised at how close Lexa is hovering behind her to study the paper. Lexa turns her head a few degrees and now she’s looking into Clarke with that small smile of hers that is the softest she has ever seen from anybody. It makes Clarke’s breath catch in her throat and almost forget about the blacksmith standing right there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa reaches her hand out for the sketch. “May I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke has to swallow and lick her lips before she can manage to pull her eyes away from Lexa’s smiling lips. “Yeah, sure.” Clarke hands over the paper. Lexa takes a step backward and Clarke immediately misses the smell of her and the warmth she radiated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She beckons the blacksmith over. “What if we got rid of this entire portion so that it’s not so heavy it weighs her down?” Lexa asks the blacksmith.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blacksmith nods in response, dreadlocks bouncing up and down with the movement. “That could work, but it leaves the legs exposed. What if we create a shin guard with the same pattern as the shoulder guards using interlocking plates of leather?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes another hour for them to hash out the details, during which Clarke wanders around the shop, examining each weapon with more detail than she has in her life. Clarke is staring at a particularly interesting staff when Lexa creeps up on her. “Do you want it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke jumps about three feet in the air and whips around to face Lexa. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nods her head in indication towards the staff. It is a beautifully crafted weapon with a thick and full wooden length. A small but skillfully crafted metal lion rests on top. Lexa steps forward and picks it up, weighing it before yanking on the lion’s head, pulling out a thin, but wickedly sharp and glinting blade. Clarke’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even known that was possible. The blade is significantly shorter than the staff itself for balance, but it is so well crafted that nobody would even notice it was hidden within. Clarke shakes her head vigorously, “No thank you. The lion is a nice addition, but it doesn’t seem very practical.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa resheathes the blade and puts down the staff as she lets out a little chuckle, “That’s coming from the person who designed the impossible armor. Come. Let us show you the finished design.” She takes Clarke and brings her to the front again, where a completely new sketch resides on the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The design consists of a generic leather breastplate to protect her chest and torso. To contrast it, the shoulder guards and shin guards are the complete opposite. They are drawing with interlocking plates of leather to resemble wings. Protective, lightweight, moveable, but also sending a powerful message. A powerful message indeed it was that Clarke was going to announce in front of all humanity in a few weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next place Lexa took her to was the tailors shop. Upon walking in Clarke’s eyes shot around the inside of the building. She was never one for caring about fashion, but this was every artists’ dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were ratty mannequins lined up along the back wall. A few were dressed in elegant flower dresses that were obviously based on real flowers. Some resembled pirates.</span>
</p><p><span>Lexa turned her head and tilted it towards her, “See anything you like?”. Clarke shook her head, averting her eyes from the commander. She heard Lexa let out an audible sigh, and Clarke’s eyes flew back up to lock with Lexa’s once more.</span><span><br/></span> <span>Clarke could see the confused expression on Lexa’s face as she stumbled over the words to say next. “No no, I don’t mean it like that” she mutters. “I just mean, I want to be able to draw a dress too…” Clarke finishes.</span></p><p>
  <span>She watches Lexa’s facial expression carefully as the brunette's lips start to pull upwards. Clarke lets herself give Lexa a soft smile back until they hear footsteps approaching them from behind. Lexa’s face immediately going back to her usual stoic expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worker begins speaking to Lexa, “Kaina yu gafen, Heda?” Lexa turns on her heel to face the worker. She gestured her hand toward Clarke, and Clarke slightly steps forward to be standing directly next to Lexa now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worker gives a polite smile, “My apologies. What do you need?” she asks. Clarke looks around the room, hoping she won’t have to ask for paper. But she can’t find any just by looking around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have paper?” Clarke asked, her tone almost embarrassed sounding. Lexa bites her lower lip to stop herself from smiling once again. The woman walks away for a moment before coming back with a piece of paper, a hard book to write on and a few pieces of charcoal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hands the supplies to Clarke who takes it from her hands slowly, thanking her as she places the paper on the book and starts to draw out an idea. Lexa, who is not so inconspicuously leaning over Clarkes shoulder, tilts her head awaiting the finished product. After a few minutes of drawing Clarke walks over to a table and places the drawing down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worker makes her way over to the table, admiring the drawing sitting in front of her. “This is amazing” she gawks over the sketch. Clarke feels a sudden rush of blood flow to her face. She’s not usually one for showing off her work but people admiring it was something she had always hoped for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa comes up behind the two of them, “You really  are a very impractical clothing designer, Clarke” she deadpans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke whips around “If you don’t like it I can just draw it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa immediately retracts her last statement, “No, that is not it. It is good. Can you make that for her?” Lexa asked, turning her attention to the worker. The seamstress took Clarke’s drawing and began heading to the back room that was covered by a long piece of fabric.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-0-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa had left Clarke alone in the tailors to attend to her commander duties of the day. The seamstress had told the two of them that it would take about 5 hours for the whole thing to be complete. Clarke had to stay behind for measurements, fitting and the sewing process. She pointed out when things looked different from the sketch or when something was too loose on her. Clarke wanted everything to be perfect on this, another one of her visions was coming to life, she wouldn’t waste this opportunity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde heard a ring toward the front of the shop that meant the door had opened. Clarke could hear the thumping of the boots outside the room. The steps paced back and forth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seamstress finally stepped away from the mannequin she was working on and nodded toward Clarke. Clarke stood up from the chair in the corner and made her way over to the mannequin. She slowly slid the dress off and watched as the worker left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After carefully putting on the dress (what? She didn’t want to ruin such a new and pristine article of clothing), she made her way to the doorway. Sliding the curtain that covered the backroom over and stepping out into the main room of the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted her head to make eye contact with the worker. To her surprise it was Lexa standing in front of her. Her jaw gaped open, immediately closing it the minute Clarke made eye contact with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt a small smile tug at her lips as the worker made her way over to her once again. Well if it didn’t mean Lexa thought Clarke looked good in the dress, at least it meant she would have the element of jaw dropping surprise. The seamstress led Clarke to the other end of the room where there stood a slab of shiny metal. Clarke took in the view in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dress was satin, a beautiful sky blue that ran past Clarke’s feet and dragged across the floor. Gold accents were stitched along the plunging neckline, waistline and shoulders. Two pieces of chiffon rested on Clarke’s shoulder and came down the entire length of her arm. The worker brought Clarke a black corset and helped to put it on her, tightening it as much as she could before stepping back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke finally turned around to face Lexa once more. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow toward the commander. “Does it look okay? You haven’t said anything.” Clarke asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa blinked owlishly. “It looks nice on you.” She started to say, ”Certainly something I wouldn’t wear though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke groaned, rolling her eyes and turned back to admire herself in the makeshift mirror. “Good thing it’s not for you then.” The worker makes her way over to Clarke once more. This time she’s carrying a needle and thread with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts to add some finishing touches to Clarke’s dress. Stitching up along her neckline, to make the dress fit snug around her. After that she makes her way down to Clarke’s feet, pulling the dress off the ground slightly. She fixes the bottom so it doesn’t completely drag along the floor while Clarke is walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the worker is done she takes a step back admiring the dress. She gives a pleased cluck of her tongue before walking away and back to the other side of the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarke then made her way into the backroom once more, changing back into her street clothes. She folded the dress up neatly and brought it to the main table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will hold onto this until the Mardi Gras Carnival”, the seamstress informed her with the signature soft customer service tone. Lexa taps on Clarke’s shoulder, gesturing that they both leave the building but not before she gives Clarke a loaf of bread and a canteen of water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat something. We have more to do.” Lexa announced as they walked out of the shop. Clarke nodded, taking a bite of the bread as she walked in time with Lexa down the street.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:<br/>Kaina yu gafen, Heda?: What do you need, Commander?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Our first fanfiction on this website? It’s my first time writing in a while I hope it’s not awful.<br/>Actually it’s the first one where we collaborate to begin with. Clexa deserved better.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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